Next of Kin
by Heartsick
Summary: Kyra is dead and Riddick is looking for answers. Who was she, really? One woman might know.
1. Welcome to your new home

I do not own Riddick or any other copywritten characters.

Welcome to your new home…

The burlap hood over my head had rubbed my face raw, and smelled of the sweat and vomit of those who had come before me. I would leave something of my own behind for whoever was next, as it was now saturated with my blood. I had lost track of time hours ago, perhaps even a day. When one begins drifting in and out of consciousness, it becomes harder and harder to tell. In the beginning I had tried to lose myself inside my own head, a trick that I had learned early on in life. I sang old songs to myself, recited long story poems. I drowned out the strings of filth and profanity that were being spit at me while metal poles and steel-toed boots collided with my body. But there was one voice in the melee that I couldn't seem to drown out. It was the voice of a female.

"Ah, calm down ya whiney fuckers! I didn't rough her face up _too_ much! Since when do you care what they look like anyway? Just shut yer eyes and get down to business. Better yet, leave the goddamn bag on er head!"

I would remember that voice.

I couldn't say how much time had passed, but when the hood _was _ripped from my head a clump of my hair came way with it. I heard heavy footsteps leading away from me, and for the first time the air around me felt empty. My senses started to come back to me, slowly, but the sensation was like a wave washing over me. I began to try and assess the damage. I didn't bother trying to open my eyes; I knew that they were swollen shut. My nose was broken, this was obvious. All of this was familiar to me. My head was reeling, and the right side of my face was awash with pain. I would later learn that this was due to a broken cheekbone. But the bitch had kept her word; from the neck up I wasn't in such a bad state. On to the rest of me.

No doubt my left shoulder was not where it should have been, and the arm below it was broken. I knew the pain of broken fingers and ribs, but had never had so many broken at one time. The rest of the injuries I could not diagnose right away, I only knew pain that surpassed anything I had endured before. And my insides are another story altogether.

It was almost quiet now, but a prison is never truly quiet.


	2. Some walls are thicker than stone

_Some walls are thicker than stone…._

The sky was a peculiar shade of purple that night, and staring up at it I felt almost lost in the world. I sat on my chaise, leaning back, legs crossed. The air was thick, yet there was a slight breeze, and it made the trees rustle almost impatiently. This was one of the only planets that could still boast the harvesting of living trees. Candles flickered and created shadows, which danced on the stone floor of the patio. I knew that I was safe here, behind the 10ft stonewalls of my garden. Safe from the world I had known, safe from the prying eyes on the other side. They didn't keep me in, but they kept all else out. Until tonight, that is.

I'm not sure why he didn't come to the door. He couldn't have thought that I would turn him away. But he came over the wall nonetheless, moving like no other animal I have ever encountered. He moved stealthily, but didn't try to hide from me. I had never seen him before, not with my own eyes. But I knew him without a doubt. How could I not?

His gait slowed as he approached me, and for some reason this caused my heart to quicken with fear. But I knew he couldn't tell, not unless he was a mind reader. There was no way I was going to let him smell emotion on me. Just as slowly I rose from my seat.

"I thought that you would have come sooner." My voice did not waver. "I've been waiting for you."

He didn't bother to respond, but instead lifted his goggles and removed them.

I could attempt to explain his eyes, but I wouldn't know where to begin… or how to end.

He began to give me a thorough once-over, which he made no attempt to hide. It wasn't sexual, but rather the sizing up of one whom you are determined not to trust. I could feel his eyes moving over me, with a cruel scrutiny that a mirror could not rival. My dark unruly curls were pinned up, but undoubtedly some had fallen around the crown of my head. I always wore makeup, I felt battered without it, but it was simply a mild coat of camouflage. A couple of ragged scars peeked through, but no wrinkles yet. My eyes were still the focal point of my face. Huge and brown and bottomless, or so I was once told. I knew that I still had much beauty left, but he wasn't looking for it, and made no indication that he had found it.

"_You _have been waiting for _me?"_ Like gravel under heavy boots. "I don't get _that_ too often.."

I motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs facing mine. He looked at me like an insect he wished to crush. Time seemed to stand still, and I fought my breath not to catch in my throat. Finally I found speech.

"I don't know exactly what happened to her, I only know that she is gone."

He didn't flinch, didn't move. But I was observant, and I saw the muscles in his neck tighten. I still fought back the fear. I knew if I let myself feel it he would smell it on me like an animal.

"I want to know _everything_ you know about her. Everything."

I didn't' bother gesturing again, I simply took my seat and waited. Finally he sat as well, but in kept the stance of one ready to strike – legs apart, back rigid, as if ready to pounce at any moment. The gravity of the situation was beginning to hit me. I knew that this day would come, or at least I thought it would. The Riddick that I had heard of would come looking for the girl one day, this I knew. And if he was as clever as I'd been told, he would find me. Nonetheless, sitting across from this infamous individual was much more intense than I could have imagined. I'm not sure how much time I spent thinking about this, but he was getting impatient.

" I need to know about Kyra. Let's go."

I took a moment before I responded.

"The first time I met her, her name was Jack."

He couldn't hide it this time. He clenched his jaw and his brow wrinkled. I might as well have threw the words at him and hit him in the face.

"When you bought her from a merc," he spit at me.

I had known this would be coming, but still hadn't expected the bitterness in his voice. Could I explain? Would he believe me?

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	3. Upside Down

_Upside down…._

This wasn't my first time incarcerated, but it was my first time in a place like this. The bitch came back first, I heard the voice before I got a good look at her.

"Well, now that yer good an broken in its time to go make some new friends!"

She was short, maybe 5'5", with a very slight build. It was always the little ones who had the biggest mouths. She began to try to drag me by left arm. I yelped in pain. Laughter.

"Aw, that ain't nothin' sweetie! Wait till' they got a load a you downstairs."

Stringy blond hair pulled back in a filthy ponytail, a thin hard face. She looked like she'd been to hell and back, and then went back for more.

I stared at her. I knew that I should just keep my mouth shut, but knowing and doing are two totally different things. My voice felt like sandpaper in my throat.

"What's your name?"

She dropped my arm, shocked that I would dare speak to her. "What did you say bitch?"

The tone of her voice verified my fears. I knew women like this, had run into many. I had just thrown sand in her face, and was getting ready to do it again. I took a breath. "I said what's your name."

Her whole body stiffened. I saw her drawing back her leg in slow motion, felt the boot before it even came near me. She squared her shoulders, and took a step back. "Sit up bitch!"

Ok, easier said than done. I managed to begin to roll to my side but it wasn't fast enough for her, as she grabbed a handful of my wet curls and tried to yank me upright. I managed to use my right arm to prop myself up. She kneeled down in front of me, still gripping my hair tightly.

"My _NAME _is Verity."

I could feel her breath on my face, and I didn't like it. More footsteps down the hallway.

"Chill out Verity, playtime's over. Gotta get her downstairs before the warden gets back. " Big gorilla of a man.

Verity rose, and took a couple of steps back, regarding me as one would a stray dog. "Bitch wants to get up close and personal."

Gorilla looked at me and smiled. It was a disgusting smile, greasy lips and rotten teeth. Even with my head bashed in my brain was working, and I could tell the basic content of his comment before he even formed the words. "Honey, you and me already been up close and personal." Verity laughed. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of vomiting, though it was a struggle to hold it back. Verity turned to him. "Which end should we drop her at?"

Gorilla thought for a moment. "Grand entrance, front door." Verity almost squealed. "Hah!" She looked at me. "You're in for it bitch!"

Gorilla grabbed me by the ankles and began dragging me down the hallway. Upside down was Verity's face, following behind me. At the opposite end of the hallway was a hatch, like the hatch on a submarine. Verity shuffled with some keys and opened it. More dragging, and my head hit the lip of the hatch on the way through. Two more hallways, each with hatches at the end. Each connected with the back of my head. Then I heard it. The voices, some yelling, some pleading. The sounds of metal against stone. People walking, some running. The sounds of an unhappy crowd.

The gorilla dropped my ankles. "This is your stop."

I could see Verity opening the hatch. My heart began to pound. Then a voice behind me.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Heavy footsteps. Still upside down I could see Verity's demeanor change. She stood at attention and a hand ran up to smooth back her hair, as if this would help in the least. Gorilla looked nervous. "Just bringing this one down Sir."

I didn't really want to look, and passing out again was sounding better and better. But I couldn't help myself. I tilted my head back a little farther, and saw a tall man, medium build. He had jet black hair with eyes to match, and very sharp features. He was of a different sort than these two pieces of filth, cleaner for one. He was dressed in dark utility pants and a dark shirt. He had holsters over his shoulders with various weapons, but they looked very clean, not often used. All in all he was an imposing figure, with an air of arrogance about him.

"Like this? Don't you idiots pay attention? CLEAN. They have to go down CLEAN."

Verity was standing to his left, and was making a mockery of what she thought was femininity. "Sir," she began, in a voice that was _not_ hers, " We were.."

He cut her off as if she had never begun. "And what are you doing at this end? You don't drop off at this end! You drop off in the back!" His tone was a mixture of anger and condescension. "It is hard enough to keep these savages at bay, but dealing with you morons is downright impossible. If you throw them in all.." he gestured at me "..bloody and disgusting, it just riles the rest of them up all the more! Do you want to be dragging dead bodies out of there tomorrow? Better yet, do you want to fill out all of the paperwork on these animals? I do not. Hose her off and drop her in the back."

Gorilla was transferring his bulk from one leg to another, and Verity was barely looking at him from the corner of her eye. "Yes sir." But he spun and marched away, clearly happy with himself for putting them in their place.

They looked at each other and then down at me. Ankles up and dragged again. On the way back down the hallway they sniped comments back and forth, and I gathered that the white collar scum was an under-warden named O'Reardon.

"That mother fucker, like he cares what these pieces of shit do to each other! He just wants to bust balls. And you with that little girl voice, you need to stop tryin' to get at his balls!"

This pushed a button. "Fuck you," Verity hurled back, clearly aggravated. "I didn't hear you speakin up! I'm just tryin to stay on the bastard's good side!"

"Well the bastard don't want you on him at all." It continued on down the hallways, and I couldn't help but smile on the inside. Verity and the under-warden? Not likely. To him, she was as much of an animal as anyone in this hole. But the fact that even prisons had these type of politics struck me as amusing.

They took me to a room with drainage holes on the floor and hosed me off as one would an animal. The freezing cold water hit my battered body with such force that I couldn't hold back the cries, which of course delighted Verity. "O'Reardon wants clean. I'll getcha clean." The water jolted me, and brought me to a level of consciousness that I would rather have avoided. Instead of dragging me Gorilla hauled me over his shoulder, which put such pressure on my ribs that again I moaned in pain. Another maze of halls and hatches. Then we stopped. This was it. And in my mind, this was possibly the last "it" I would ever encounter.

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End file.
